The Green Kalahari 2008

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MrBig

Grey Hound
Joined
Sep 18, 2006
Messages
9,410
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Location
Stellenbosch
Bike
Triumph 955 Tiger
This is not a ride report as such (although we did do some riding);
It’s also not an adventure by any means (although we didn’t have much in the line of plans);
It definitely wasn’t hardcore (there was some sand, gravel and camping but nothing serious);
This is more the story of a trip.. A travelogue if you will.

Even though this was written almost a year ago, I never posted it. But with the annual Wild Dog Bash being held at Boegoeberg Dam this year I though I might as well post it and hopefully stir some interest in that area.

Our trip was a fairly impromptu 9 day affair my wife and I did through the area known as the Green Kalahari.  We also overnighted in the Tankwa Karoo area and was supposed to make it to Verneukpan as well; but things didn’t quite work out.
As usual we traveled without much in the sense of planning – just drifting along a general route..


THE GREEN KALAHARI 2008

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A few years ago, I got myself a huge full-colour map of Southern Africa that filled half my study wall and proceeded to painstakingly plot a myriad of points with tiny numbered arrows. Along the way I re-discovered long forgotten destinations and memories from my travelling past – mostly from as a kid in the back seat of our family car with a destination obsessed father at the wheel.

Eventually the map was covered with a multitude of markers – some reminders of past journeys and some pointing at places still to visit. Every now and then I go stand in front of my bizarre creation and dream up a new trip. I trace a potential path and see myself riding new roads, discovering wonderful sights, visiting quaint little towns and meeting friendly people. Every now and then this dreamy journey turns into a reality and that is how most of our trips start.

It was mid-September and Cape Town was miserably cold; summer felt like it would never arrive. Our plan was to head north and chase the elusive warm weather we’ve been craving.

A public holiday right in the middle of the week signalled a great opportunity and with some shuffling Lisa and I managed to free the rest of our week. Suddenly a glorious nine days lay ahead of us and we felt the excitement of exploring new destinations. With the bike packed we set off out of Stellenbosch on a cold and wet Friday afternoon. The weather was nasty and we couldn’t quite decide whether a rain suit was necessary but the thought of getting wet on our first day settled the argument.

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Usually we would take the back road past Wellington to get to Bainskloof Pass (one of my favourite mountain passes in the Cape) which leaves just a short hop to Ceres. The weather was unpredictable though and for a change we slipped over a quiet Du Toits Kloof Pass and took the Rawsonville turn-off into the valley below.

The Slanghoek road is an old favourite; winding beautifully through green farmlands and small settlements eventually hooking up with the Worcester to Ceres road. But damn you, you winter rain! Just short of this intersection we came across a fully flooded bridge where we were forced to stop and contemplate our next move. We watched a tractor make the crossing without too much effort and our spirits lifted. But when a farmer in a 4x4 struggled across; the back of his bakkie moving precariously with the flow of the raging water; the decision was made for us. We had to turn back and find an alternate route.

A substantial detour later we finally made it to Ceres and filled the bike with fuel. We were running very late but this was to be an important stop as we weren’t certain when fuel would be available again. The plan was to spend two nights at Die Mond (camping next to the Doring River) and from there travel via Middelpos to Brandvlei (on a Sunday). This would mean stretching our fuel to the maximum and I filled up the extra 5 litre container strapped to the back.

I mentioned to some fellow biker friends where we’ll be from that evening up until Sunday in case some wanted to join us for the weekend. Unbeknownst to any of us at that stage I had made a massive error in the directions I gave. Blissfully unaware of this we hit the R355 outside Ceres and went in search of our destination. The shadows grew longerer and thick snow on Matroosberg glared down at us. It was very cold and suddenly we were grateful for the extra layer our rain suit provided.

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I’m not entirely certain at which stage we realised we had a problem. We stopped every now and then to check for cell phone reception; hoping to call for directions but we had no luck. My GPS directed us west towards the Katbakkies Pass but soon we knew that we were completely lost. The sun was setting and the wind was very cold with my little thermometer showing barely 5˚C. We turned back towards the R355 and stopped one last time to check for cell reception.

With my helmet off I recognized the unmistakable sound of a Suzuki DRZ somewhere ahead of us. Seconds later the familiar face of NewGuy appeared out of the dusk, as lost as we were. With no time to waste we headed down the Peerboomskloof Pass looking for an overnight spot. A deserted picnic area in a sheltered corner of the pass came to our rescue and as the last glimmer of light disappeared in the distance over the mountain we pitched our tents and made ourselves at home.

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Unfortunately we failed to gather enough wood for a proper fire and had to make do sipping copious amounts of red wine to stay warm and eat whatever we had. We had a pleasant enough evening but the cold drove us to our beds early.
Ecstatic to have survived the freezing night we celebrated with coffee to warm up. We hit the road and continued up the R355 - annoyingly finding the elusive turn-off just 30 kilometres further. It was just as well though as a part of this road was completely flooded and it would’ve been rather interesting to have attempted a crossing at night.

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As all responsible travellers should, we checked the depth of the water by walking across. The water came to just under knee height and apart from some loose river stones a crossing shouldn’t be any problem. Seeing that my waterproof boots were now keeping the water inside, I spared my wife from the same travesty and carried her across to dry land before returning for the green hippo. Oh why is there never a camera out for the good moments!

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